


You're safe with me, I promise

by NotSafeForMurphy



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Dubious Consent, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Frottage Sexsomnia, Kaer Morhen's Fanon Hot Springs (The Witcher), Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexsomnia, Top Eskel (The Witcher), Trans Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Vaginal Sex, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 16:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30074841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSafeForMurphy/pseuds/NotSafeForMurphy
Summary: Geralt has come for the winter to Kaer Morhen and he's excited to see Eskel. He's got a surprise for him, but before they can get to that, there is the small matter of Eskel's leg to deal with.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	You're safe with me, I promise

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Few things that are a bit spoiler-y but still:  
> Geralt is trans in this fic, and as such I've used words to describe his genitals that might make some people uncomfortable (dick/ cock/ slit/ cunt).  
> Also, the dub con refers to one person grinding on the other in their sleep, waking up a bit embarassed, getting reassured before they both give explicit consent before going on to have sex (I've put the specifics in the tags).  
> I have at least one more chapter of this planned, and after that who knows.

The snow was still falling softly and settling gently on the thin layer of white powder covering the courtyard when Geralt stepped in, Roach following close behind. She shook her head, mane flying out behind her and whinnied as Geralt gave her a small, appreciative smile and petted her flank. As he walked her into the stables, there was a cry from the entrance of the keep.  
“Hey! He’s here!”  
Geralt frowned almost imperceptibly as he started taking his saddlebags down from his horse before he could begin grooming her. Sure, he’d taken a little longer than usual to head back, but the snow wasn’t that thick yet. He looked up and peered into the other stable stalls. Ah. That would be why then- he was very rarely last back, too eager to see Eskel in particular again after months of separation- and there were already three other horses stabled. They seemed perfectly content, happily munching their way through some hay. He let out a small huff, and his frown deepened. He had wanted to have everything set up before Eskel got back- he’d managed to find a few trinkets that he’d thought the other witcher would appreciate over the year. There was also that other particular… _item_ hidden deep in his saddlebags that he was keen to test with his boyfriend. Somewhat put out at his surprise being spoiled, Geralt finished dealing with Roach (giving her a parting gift of an apple, of course, it wasn't her fault he was late) and hefted his bags up onto his shoulders. He padded across the snowy courtyard, snowflakes dampening his pale hair and making it slightly frizzy as he walked. Waiting at the door for him was Vesemir, who looked older and greyer than Geralt remembered him. He felt a jolt go through him at the thought. He willed it away as Vesemir brought him in for a hug, patting him roughly on the back.  
"You're late. Thought for a while we might not see you this year."  
Geralt grimaced. "It’s not that bad, is it?"  
Vesemir crooked an eyebrow at him. "Eskel was getting quite worried. But then he's not doing too well himself, he's laid up by the fire in the main hall."  
Geralt blinked, mouth going dry. "What."  
Vesemir opened his mouth to explain, but the younger witcher had already shot off inside the keep, dropping his bags inside the door as he went. Vesemir sighed and picked them up with a small smile.  
Geralt strode swiftly into the main hall, and he could feel his eyebrows slowly rising into his hairline as he caught sight of Eskel by the fire with one of his legs raised on a stool in front of him. He turned at the sound of movement, a book resting in his lap. Eskel began to smile but froze up when he saw Geralt's face as the man rushed towards him.  
"Good journ-"  
"What happened?" Geralt had reached his side and set himself down on his knees by Eskel’s side. He looked up into his face, absentmindedly searching for any new scars, a rush of air coming out of his mouth when he didn't find any.  
"Geralt, I'm fine, honestly. It's not as if you've never come back injured you know."  
But he was ignored as Geralt had moved over and was cautiously poking his leg, trying to discern the nature of the problem.  
There was a thud as Vesemir dropped Geralt's bags behind them, which he studiously ignored in favour of rolling up the left leg of Eskel’s breeches. Eskel rolled his eyes, trying to hide a fond smile behind a hand he brought up to scratch at his scars.  
“Geralt, honestly, I’m basically fine-” He winced as Geralt poked at the tender part of his thigh.  
He glanced down at the other man affectionately, before huffing out a laugh and returning to his book. Geralt continued to examine his leg, undeterred. There was a harsh red line about halfway up Eskel’s thigh, cutting diagonally and curved slightly at the end. It looked like it had already been stitched and there was no sign of red skin spilling out around the wound, so he was probably safe from infection. Tentatively, Geralt grazed his fingertips across it, keeping a careful eye on Eskel’s expression. He saw him swallow, and his eyes tightened at the corners as he winced.  
“It’s healing, but it’s still sensitive,” Eskel murmured, running a hand through his hair to brush it off his face. Geralt glanced up at him and squeezed his knee.  
“How does it feel to walk on it?”  
Eskel huffed and turned to look into the flames licking across the logs in the fireplace.  
“Not great, but I can still move about alright.” He spun back and pinned Geralt with a look. “I’d be up for more strenuous activities, so long as it didn’t jostle it, if that’s what you’re asking.”  
Geralt spluttered indignantly, “No, no, I just meant-” He was cut off by a peal of laughter as Eskel tipped his head back in mirth.  
“It’s fine, wolf.” He reached over and ruffled Geralt’s hair, receiving a half-hearted growl and a glare that was somewhat less effective because of the pout hiding below it. “Aww,” Eskel teased, watching Geralt try and straighten his already frizzy hair and move it away from his eyes. “You’re not upset I messed up your pretty hair are you, Ger?” he leant over and tucked a strand behind his ear. Geralt’s glower deepened.  
“Not pretty, ‘s just hair.”  
“Why do you care so much when I mess it up then, huh?”  
Geralt blinked. He had no answer to that. He gave Eskel a light shove. “Shut up, Esk.”  
Eskel smirked, amused by the obvious distraction his boyfriend was trying, as Geralt cleared his throat, and stood up.  
“Uh,” he offered, eloquently. “Your, uh, thigh,” Eskel looked at him expectantly. “It, umm. Eskel, it’s a little, uh, it’s a little bit fucked.”  
“Truly, you’ve always had a way with words, Geralt.” Eskel leered. Geralt turned away sharply, willing his hair to cover his cheeks as they flushed pink at Eskel’s words. _Ugh, why did compliments and teases have to be so embarrassing? Gods, it made his skin crawl._ And Eskel knew it too, the smug bastard- at least Geralt didn’t flush as easily as he had done before the mutagens. Eskel always used to lean in and whisper casual compliments when they were sat in the main hall, maybe about his footwork in sword practice, or how nice the curve of his ass was when he bent over, just to watch his friend go red in the face and squirm. He had always been particularly uncomfortable with heartfelt compliments, and Eskel had always, always, used it against him. Little shit that he was. But Geralt wouldn’t have him any other way, he thought, looking through his curtain of hair back at Eskel’s knowing smirk.  
“Esk, why don’t we go down to the hot spring? The water will be good to ease the tension you’re carrying in your leg at least.”  
Eskel hesitated a moment. Geralt nibbled at his bottom lip, wondering what he was thinking about. It wasn’t like he had any ulterior motives- he genuinely wanted to help his wounded lover. “Alright,” Eskel replied eventually, the moment apparently over, “Let’s go then. Lead on.''

They meandered down the path towards the steamy air of the spring. As they entered, Eskel wasted no time in reaching behind his neck and pulling his shirt off in a fluid movement. He left his breeches and smalls with it on the side of the pool and winked at Geralt over his shoulder before leaping into the steaming water.  
He gasped as he resurfaced. Blinking, with water droplets decorating his lashes, he gaped for a second. “Fuck, Geralt.” he exclaimed, “it’s lovely in here.” He beamed at him prettily, and Geralt wanted nothing more in that moment than to press kisses all over his gleeful expression. He nodded instead, turning around to peel off his shirt. He took a quick glimpse over his shoulder before yanking his trousers and smalls down in one rapid tug and leaping into the water. It was a habit he’d formed so long ago, but even around people he trusted, Geralt couldn’t quite bring himself to break it. Eskel said nothing and pretended politely to be distracted by the bubbles, no matter how intimately familiar with each other’s bodies they were at this point. Geralt appreciated his pretence, though he still sent a shifty little glance over his shoulder before deciding to venture further into the water with him. As usual, Geralt buried himself up to his neck in the hot water and grabbed the soap, rubbing it hastily into a lather.  
Whilst he was busying himself with the soap, Eskel looked up at him from beneath his lashes, and oh gods, but Geralt was done for. He was gorgeous with his strong, thick arms, and a trail of dark hair leading down across a deceptively soft-looking stomach- Geralt knew the strength hidden under there was formidable, but it still felt wonderful to lay his face against.  
“Esk, how about, I wash your hair for you?”  
Eskel looked over, eyebrows raised. He waited, not answering, and Geralt could feel the nerves rising in his chest, almost forcing his next words out in a hurry.  
“Uhh, I mean. Umm. I, if you’d like, I could “ he stuttered, awkwardly. He winced. Why was he making this so hard? He’d washed Eskel’s hair before and now, when he was itching to do something nice for the man whilst he was injured, apparently Geralt was incapable. He frowned, and let out a quiet “Hmm”. Eventually, he sighed and tried again.  
“Look, I wanted to help you, so just shift your ass over here and let me.” Geralt ground out, every line of his body stiff. Eskel grinned at him softly, the corner of his mouth pulled tight by the scars. It made no difference- his smile was still radiant as ever. He splashed a little as he turned around, sitting sideways on the stone bench.  
“Go on then, pretty boy,” Eskel said, leaning back against Geralt’s chest. Geralt huffed at the nickname, but he didn't stop in his goal to pamper his partner. He reached behind himself to select one of the oils they kept on the edge of the bath for their hair. There was the lavender one that Lambert favoured- something about reminding him of some cat witcher, a fact which they all teased him mercilessly for- the dark liquid with the sandalwood smell that produced such a strong sense of security and warmth and safety in Geralt’s mind that it could only belong to Vesemir. He skipped past his own favourite- a hint of spice and smoke with the smell of sage lurking behind it- in favour of Eskel’s charred wood and saltwater fragranced oil. He spilled a little into his palm, and gently motioned for Eskel to tilt his head back. He had already ensured Eskel's silky chestnut hair was wet, so he tipped his palm over the top of his head and began to massage the oil in. He started with a very gentle pressure, and slowly built it up into something more insistent and firm. He could feel the soft little puffs of Eskel’s breath against his cheek when he leant around to spread the oil into the other man’s sideburns. Risking a look at his face, he saw that Eskel’s lips had parted, mouth left open and relaxed. There was a low rumbling noise coming from deep within his chest, an almost purring sound. Geralt pressed a kiss to his cheekbone. He dragged his hands deliberately down from his scalp to his shoulders and rubbed them gently for a moment, just enjoying the closeness he was able to share with Eskel.  
Reluctantly, Geralt stretched an arm back out of the water to collect an earthenware cup. He filled it with water and covered Eskel’s eyes with one of his palms. Keeping Eskel pinned in place, he rinsed his hair and combed through it with his fingers.  
“Alright you're done.” he paused a moment, “actually, wait.”  
Geralt spread his palms out flat across Eskel’s back, pushing his fingertips into the skin beneath them and rubbing. His hands slid across his shoulders and down his back, easing the tension he was still carrying from the year on the Path with ease. Geralt’s calloused hands smoothed across his hips before gradually moving up his flanks. He could feel Eskel's chest rumble on a pleased groan as his hands slid across his front, not lingering too long, but soothing nonetheless.  
After a little longer enjoying the pleasant warmth of the water, Eskel dragged himself up onto the edge of the rock surrounding the water. Geralt slunk low back into the hot spring again, his mouth just about above the surface. “You head on up, I’ll be out in a minute,” he mumbled, not meeting Eskel’s eyes. Eskel tilted his head to the side, and Geralt was startled at the sudden resemblance Eskel bore to a confused overgrown puppy.  
“Ger,” he said, lowering his voice and being careful not to smile at all in case he was misinterpreted. “You know I won’t judge you. Look, I'll even turn around.” He wrapped a bath sheet around his waist and turned to face the exit. “It’s ok, Ger.”  
“I, I know that,” Geralt started, and took a shuddery breath. “I just… I don’t know.” He sighed in frustration, irritated by his inability to express himself. “I… hmm.”  
Eskel waited patiently, as Geralt exhaled and splashed a bit in the warm water, trying to figure out what he wanted to say. Finally, Geralt huffed out a little resigned groan. “Makes me feel vulnerable. Like it used to when we were kids. Ugh.” He grunted and glared at the rough stone wall, embarrassed.  
“Geralt. It’s ok, you're safe with me I promise.”  
That pulled him from his thoughts. “Esk, I'm supposed to be looking after you, damn it. I’m fine, just gimme a second.” Geralt extracted himself from the water and hastily tugged a bath sheet around himself and over his shoulders. He padded over to Eskel and crept into his line of sight. “Sorry. Didn't mean to make you wait so long, put all that pressure on your leg. Let's head up.” He offered him a shaky smile. They headed back up through the cold corridors of the keep, bypassing the main hall and continuing up the stairs to their rooms. Geralt ushered Eskel in and pulled the heavy oak door closed behind him. Crossing the room quickly, he nudged a few of the logs in the grate around before flicking his hand into the sign for Igni and lighting the fire. Behind him, Eskel was already sprawled out across the bed, eyelids heavy and looking very content with the way he stretched his arms up above his head, a smug little smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Geralt stood and dropped his bath sheet onto a chair that sat in front of the fire. He was less uncomfortable outside of public spaces. He didn't know what it was- it wasn't as if Lambert couldn't barge into the room as easily as the springs if he wanted to. Perhaps it wasn’t logical, but he could work on it some other time. For now, he slid up onto his bed and stretched his arm out across Eskel’s belly, snuggling into his side and entwining their legs, carefully making sure not to put any pressure on Eskel’s injured thigh. They both sighed, pressing close together, with Geralt petting Eskel’s side, and Eskel gently combing his fingers through Geralt’s hair. They lay there a while, enjoying each other’s company. But of course, it could only last so long. Neither of them knew how much time had passed, but eventually, Eskel’s stomach began to rumble. The pair of them chuckled, and Geralt pulled himself upright. He pressed a kiss into Eskel’s still damp hair.  
“You stay here, I’ll go and get us some food.” Eskel nodded sleepily and gathered one of the blankets more firmly over himself. He started to burrow under it and Geralt could feel his heart melting slightly at the sight of it. How could such a large man be so adorable? He reached for a clean shirt, telling himself firmly that that was a mystery for future Geralt to solve. Fully dressed again, he headed back out of their room and down the stairs towards the kitchens. He could smell somebody cooking as he meandered down- the air was fragrant with the tang of spices, and he could smell some chicken being fried off. He heard a quiet ‘pop’ sound of a cork being yanked free from a bottle and rounded the corner just in time to see Vesemir leaning over the fire pouring some luscious burgundy liquid into the pot. Across from him, Lambert had obviously been tasked with the chicken, and he was glaring down at it as if he thought the heat from his gaze would cook it sooner. At least he hadn't burned it yet, unlike last winter. Geralt was never going to let that go. Vesemir looked up as he entered the room and offered him a quick smile before turning back to the important business of his stew. Lambert smirked at him as Geralt started to rustle through the cupboards for some dishes and cups.  
“How’s Eskel?”  
“Hello to you too, Lambert,” Geralt said, not taking his eyes off his task. “He’s just tired.”  
“Oh,” Lambert responded with a waggle of his eyebrows, “I’m sure he is.”  
Geralt scowled into the cupboard and grinned when seconds later he heard Lambert yelp as Vesemir swatted him with his spoon.  
“Get your mind out of the gutter, boy,” Vesemir growled as he turned back to his pot again. Geralt shook his head, amused, as he reached for some bread and cheese that had been left on the side. Snatching up a tray, he balanced the two plates and cups, a jug of water and then reached into another cupboard to fetch some dried fruit. He hummed appreciatively when he found some cured meats and snuck some of those onto the tray too. That ought to do it, he thought. He nodded at Vesemir and Lambert, who very maturely stuck his tongue out at him, the little prick, and retreated back upstairs.  
Back within the warmth of the room, Geralt placed the tray at the foot of the bed and helped ease Eskel up, still cautious of his leg. He leant in, his hair falling around both their faces like a curtain as he tenderly kissed Eskel once, then unable to help himself he leant in again for another. He scooted back to pass Eskel his plate, legs still touching as they went quiet for a while as they ate. The fire was still going nicely, oranges and reds flickering together in the grate, creating such a cosy atmosphere that Geralt could feel his eyelids start to sag. When he looked over at Eskel, he saw that the other witcher had already fallen asleep, his plate slumped against his chest which was rising and falling with his unnaturally slow breathing. Cautiously Geralt cleared away the plates, leaving the fruit for later. He smoothed Eskel’s hair back from his face and then climbed into bed himself, tugging and adjusting at the blankets and furs he had accumulated there over the years. He felt his eyes fall closed languidly as he pressed his nose into the nape of Eskel's neck and took a deep breath, inhaling his smell as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

When Eskel awoke, the fire had burnt down to embers and the room was almost completely dark, save for the few rays of early morning light sneaking their way in as the sun began to rise over the edge of the mountain and across the valley below that could be seen from their window. He sighed contentedly, warm beneath the blankets and from Geralt who was pressed up close against him. He ran a hand across his face, trying to clear the haze of sleep from his mind. As he did this, slowly becoming more aware of his surroundings, he began to notice Geralt pushing insistently against his thigh. He paused, holding his breath whilst he considered the situation. Geralt’s breathing was coming out a little quickly and kept catching in his throat, coming out in uneven stutters. Eskel looked down at him, at where he was pushing against him. _Oh, well that was interesting._  
Eskel swallowed thickly as Geralt rolled his hips into his thigh with a little sigh. Eskel glanced down at his face. He was definitely still sleeping judging from the peaceful, open look on his face and the endearing way his eyebrows quirked upwards when he caught himself at a particularly satisfying angle. Fortunately, Geralt was positioned against his uninjured thigh, and whilst Geralt was still wearing his shirt and smalls from the night before, Eskel had never bothered to re-dress. With Geralt’s next rut against him, Eskel noticed his thigh getting damp as Geralt rolled into him again with a short, high-pitched whine. He felt his face warm slightly as his own cock twitched in response. He took a breath to compose himself and was reaching across for Geralt’s shoulder to shake him awake before this could go any further, when Geralt stilled completely and his breathing stuttered to a halt. There was a tense second where neither of them moved, and then Geralt shot upright, wincing as he sat up, and Eskel couldn’t tear his eyes away from where his damp underwear was clinging close to his body. Before Eskel could speak, Geralt had scooted away and was blurting out an apology as quickly as he could.  
“Ah, Eskel, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! Did I hurt you? I know it’s your other leg but what if I-” Eskel rolled his eyes as Geralt continued his embarrassed babbling. He had a much easier solution. He reached out and took a firm grip of Geralt’s hips, and dragged him over to sit on his thigh. Geralt stumbled to a halt, wide-eyed and flushed pink.  
“Geralt,” Eskel said, stroking a hand down his face in a way which he hoped was comforting. “I know you didn’t mean to, and if you want to stop we absolutely can. However,” he continued, running his fingers down Geralt’s abdomen unhurriedly, “I would be more than happy to keep going, if you’d like.” He curled his fingers around Geralt just above the top of his smalls and waited patiently for a reply. Geralt gaped for a moment, the tips of his fingers tickling the top of Eskel’s hips, before he slammed his mouth shut and nodded.  
“Yeah, I’d like that.” He grated out, voice still rough from sleep. Eskel smiled wickedly, and pushed his thigh up sharply between Geralt’s legs. He revelled in the little moan he received in return, gripped Geralt tightly by the hips, and did it again. Geralt whined and threw his head back, hair flying over his shoulders and across his face. His own grip on Eskel’s still sleep-warm skin tightened till his knuckles turned white as he ground his hips down onto Eskel’s thigh.  
“Now then,” Eskel said in a low voice, “Don’t you worry about me, how about you finish what you started here, sweetheart?” He pushed his thigh closer as Geralt rode it faster, face flushing darker at Eskel’s words. He bit his lip and nodded as he began to frantically thrust down on Eskel’s strong, firm thigh. He shuddered, and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, his breath hitching as his dick pressed hard into Eskel’s leg. Eskel stared openly at the way he squeezed his legs together more firmly, gasping between his hurried breathing. He felt Geralt’s dick throb against the muscle of his thigh and heard him let out a surprised moan as another rush of slick dampened his already soaked smalls even further. He kept grinding down, panting getting heavier as he got closer to the edge. Eskel shuddered, feeling hot all over. He cleared his throat.  
“You gonna come on my leg just from this, Ger? In your pants? You’re making such a mess of me, you naughty boy, maybe I should make you clean it up.”  
Geralt choked on air, his vivid golden eyes popping open and going wide, a loud, needy whine working its way out of his mouth at the mental image. Eskel smirked- it was so exciting when Geralt got worked up like this, and with the sunlight coming in through the window he looked practically ethereal as he rode Eskel’s thigh frantically. Beautiful as the image was though, Eskel had another idea.  
“Do you want to be a good boy for me, Geralt?” He gripped Geralt’s chin gently in one hand, the other staying firmly on his hip. Geralt licked his lips, nodding almost as rapidly as he was grinding. “On your back for me, then.”  
Geralt frowned, but obeyed without hesitation- Eskel felt a rush of heat go through him at the easy show of submission. He smiled and leant over him, giving him a quick kiss to his lips before moving further down the bed. Making sure to adjust his wounded leg comfortably before he started anything, Eskel peeled Geralt’s damp smalls down his legs, breath catching as he caught sight of what was hidden below. Sticking out from the damp curls was Geralt’s dick, wet with slick and glistening in the low amber light. He swallowed as he threw the underwear onto the floor and reached for the bottom of Geralt’s shirt. He raised an eyebrow at the other man lying beneath him and tried very hard not to look at Geralt desperately shifting his hips. Geralt met his gaze and caught his bottom lip between his teeth, his brow furrowing. Tentatively, he gave a very small shake of his head. Eskel smiled kindly at him and released the shirt, before lowering his head down to press an indulgent kiss into Geralt’s thigh. He took a moment to enjoy how soft the pale skin on the inside of them was and yet how solid they were, before shoving them apart none too carefully and burying his face in between them. There was a sharp cry above him before one of Geralt’s hands flew up to his face to cover his mouth. Geralt spread his legs further apart and squirmed as he felt Eskel’s tongue lap gently at his slit before continuing in a slow path up to his dick. He couldn’t keep the little sighs and moans back as Eskel lavished him with attention, still holding him in place by his hips so that there was nothing Geralt could do to get more friction but whine and plead. He let his other hand fall into Eskel’s hair and tug on it to try and make him show more of that attention to his dick. But Eskel pulled back with a tut, leaving Geralt to cry out.  
“Naughty boy, trying to decide what I do. Who’s in charge here right now?” Eskel stared him down as Geralt tried in vain to stop squirming, panting desperately.  
“Y-you, Esk. Please.” He gasped out, eyes pleading with Eskel as much as his words. His pupils had grown so large and dark his eyes were almost completely engulfed by them.  
“Alright then,” Eskel replied and leant back in, this time holding down Geralt’s right thigh and sneaking his left between them. He teased Geralt with it, running it over his cunt but never slipping in, glancing around his dick but never touching where he needed it. Geralt’s eyes closed again involuntarily as he panted. Eventually, Eskel slid his tongue into the warmth of Geralt’s cunt, lips curling into a smile at the moan from the trembling man above him. He ground his hips at a leisurely pace against the furs covering their bed. It was always a delight to make Geralt fall apart, Eskel thought, still licking into and around him, sucking every so often. He reached his hand up to finally, finally wrap two fingers around Geralt’s dick and stroke it. He could feel the shaking of his thighs around his face and lapped at him more determinedly. He moved to suck at Geralt’s dick at the same time as he slid a finger inside him, crooked it and pushed. Geralt gasped and groaned above him, wriggling and unable to hold still.  
“Esk- ahh- Eskel I’m gonna, I-” he moaned out. Eskel shushed him with a featherlight caress of his thigh. He slipped his tongue free to press a kiss to the tip of Geralt’s dick, savouring the whine Geralt gave him in response.  
“Sweetheart, you can cum whenever you want.” Geralt nodded jerkily, and bit his lip as Eskel continued his ministrations, moaning his appreciation for another minute before-  
“F-Fuck!” Geralt exclaimed with a gasp as he came, grinding down onto Eskel’s mouth as he did so. Eskel pressed a barely-there kiss to his dick, and then each trembling thigh as Geralt sank deeper into the bed. Eskel sat up a bit more so he could still reach Geralt’s abdomen to pepper it with gentle little kisses and watched him as his breathing returned to a normal pace. He enjoyed the quiet and spent the time admiring Geralt’s reclining figure, feeling very relaxed and quite pleased with himself. He was, however, perhaps too relaxed. Geralt pounced on him, shoving him back onto the furs with no warning. Pulling his leg out to the side so that he could be comfortable, Geralt lifted himself up and sat over Eskel’s crotch. Eskel’s breath caught in his throat as Geralt rolled his wet cunt once, painfully slowly, over the length of his cock. “Wanna ride you,” he murmured and rested his hands on Eskel’s pecs. Eskel bit back a tiny whine as his eyes widened. Geralt blinked down at him, biting his lip and rubbing his thumb over Eskel’s left nipple. “Please?”  
How could Eskel possibly say no to that? He could feel his dick twitching against Geralt’s, so enticingly close to that wet heat that it was practically making him salivate. His carefully maintained patience was fraying at the seams. He nodded without hesitation and helped Geralt adjust the pair of them into a comfortable position. Holding himself tight in one hand, he used the other to lower Geralt slowly onto his cock. They both groaned as he bottomed out, sitting there for a moment as they adjusted.  
“Hmm, fuck Esk, ‘m so full,” Geralt whimpered. Eskel reached an arm forward to rub at Geralt’s dick, making Geralt buck up, still sensitive.  
“I know, sweetheart. You’re being so good for me.” Eskel said, grinding up into Geralt, pulling him down onto his dick by the hips. Geralt’s hands dug into Eskel’s pecs more firmly as he started bouncing up and down, setting a pace that left them both gasping. One of Geralt’s hands had migrated to Eskel’s right nipple, teasing him with little pinches. He groaned and rocked his hips up into Geralt harder. Fuck, but he was so wet, and Eskel could feel his cunt gripping him as his cock slipped in and out. He glanced down, watching himself piston in and out, and bit his lip to hold in a moan. Gods, he wasn’t going to last much longer.  
“How’re you doing, G?” he asked, looking up at Geralt and watching his red face as he panted desperately, hair hanging dishevelled about his shoulders, brow dotted with sweat.  
“G-great,” Geralt gasped out, clenching tightly on Eskel’s cock.  
“Can you take some more?” Geralt panted and nodded in response, shaking slightly as he edged steadily closer and closer. Eskel reached between their bodies, and stroked two fingers up then down Geralt’s dick, once, twice and a final third time. He shifted it away as Geralt came with a loud wail and collapsed onto Eskel’s chest, twitching, breath panting out in warm puffs over Eskel’s shoulder. Eskel groaned deep in his chest and clutched Geralt close to him. He fucked roughly up into him a few times, listening intently to Geralt’s overstimulated whining and whimpering, making him moan loudly as he came. They lay, panting and exhausted, for a moment, until Eskel slipped his now soft cock out of Geralt’s hole, savouring the little whimper it produced. Eskel gently stroked his back.  
“Now, I believe there was the small matter of you cleaning up your mess.'' Geralt smiled and burrowed his face to hide in the crook of Eskel’s neck. Eskel chuckled, and kissed the top of his head, cuddling him closer. “I’m kidding, let me get a washcloth.” Eskel wriggled out from underneath his boyfriend, who slumped into the furs with a soft “oof” sound. Eskel patted his ass fondly and fetched the cloth. Gathering up some of the fruit they’d ignored the night before and refilling the cups of water, he padded over to the bed again. They spent a quiet few minutes tenderly cleaning each other up and feeding the other dainty pieces of fruit, taking the time to make sure they both felt settled. With that done, Eskel chuckled as Geralt leant over the edge of his bed to find his smalls, wrinkling his nose at the state of them and grumbling as he had to move to the chest he kept his clothes in instead. With a pair shimmied on and the plates once again cleared, Geralt settled back into the bed and pulled Eskel up against his chest. He nuzzled into his neck, and Eskel relaxed back into it, both of them too comfortable now to be bothered at being so soft and needy with each other. Geralt moved his hips forward until they were flush with his boyfriend’s. Safe and cosy, he could feel his eyelids drooping. Eskel hummed in contentment and let out a yawn.  
“Maybe,” Geralt said, swallowing a yawn of his own. “I could top next time.” His breathing evened out as he fell asleep. Leaving Eskel to mumble happily at the prospect and burrow himself deeper into the pillows before his own eyes fell closed.

**Author's Note:**

> come chat about witcher stuff with me on tumblr at [funkylittlebard](https://funkylittlebard.tumblr.com)


End file.
